His Quietus Make

I will actually come through on a promise I posed on my very first entry here in MySpace, spoken out of caution and concern on January 11th, 2006. Since then, I have written almost 80 entries, but the real number of journal entries since the mid-80s makes this little experiment look like a playing card. In truth, it's not MySpace. It's our space, where we have shared friends, shared status, possibly a spot on someone's top friends list, and hopefully a photo that doesn't make us look like a mass murderer. We build who we are online, sometimes despite who we are in real life, and because I love to write, that option to blog here was the irresistible chocolate donut sitting there on the plate, daring me.

The truth is, if you let it, this little wading pool of thought can get deep and a little revealing. Sometimes, it even gives people the option of reading you without effort and that affects the lines of communication. The real question becomes: Why do I feel the need to write this stuff in such a public place? My journal began on loose sheets of college ruled paper, then moved to word procesed documents and printouts, all kept in the same binder. Eventually, three binders were filled and now sit in my attic, where in hindsight, I realize all of my thoughts should be kept. The geek in me couldn't resist the Internet, so here I am, swimming rivers of change and knowing that this is the wrong place to write.

See, my space is up here, in my head, in the conversations I have with my friends and family. It's in the stories I write (I'm in the thick of writing a script now, and that might be the reason I was jarred loose from the pattern), and the music I play. My space is wordless: a hug, a handshake, a kiss, the truth right in front of you.

So why do I write, and will I keep blogging? Somewhere I'll keep it up, because this is what I do. For more than half of my life, I have emptied my heart and mind into words so I could have a little perspective for myself and indulge in the demons and angels of doubt and hope. It's a habit I'm not going to give up easily, and eventually, the living, breathing line of this little section will go away.

What I said a few years ago is true. Blogs are stupid. We are much smarter than the thoughts we leave behind.

(Of course, this just means that I return to Blogger and stop writing on MySpace. Blogger's great, isn't it?)